There Was Eve
by BookEatingCthulhu
Summary: Before the Girl Who Ate The Peach, before the world fell down, there was Eve.


Disclaimer..I own none of it of course.

Before the Girl Who Ate the Peach, before the world fell down..there was Eve.

Eve was the peasant daughter of a pig farmer, often clothed in patched gingham and dirty from the knees down. Uneducated, completely illiterate and soon to be wed to the next farmer who could offer more land or gold, she was still the most enthralling story teller the village had ever know. Stories of nymphs, kappas who coaxed young travellers into shallow pools of liquid gold, tales of young seamstresses who spun silk clouds into the night sky. Her warm smile and vivid imagination drew the attention of not only the common village folk, but a young Wildling boy who played tricks on the youngsters and granted wishes to fawning would-be lovers.

Every day, Eve would take her cedar pail to the stream and fill it with the cool mountain water. Afterwards, she would skip merrily through the meadow leading to the village, uncaringly sloshing the water behind her. More often than not, she would have to return to the stream quickly and refill her pail before her father chastised her foolish behavior. On one particularly rushed occasion, she just happened to catch a glimpse of silvery blonde hair and glittering teeth. One blink later, there was nothing. This continued for weeks, until she finally plucked up the courage to brush her skirts off and stomp across the stream to where the mysterious figure crouched in the marshweed. The boldness startled the young Wildling, and for several long moments they just gaped at one another. Coming to himself he stumbled to his feet and leapt into stardust, leaving a very bewildered girl staring at the spot where he had just been.

This was the first of many times she began to approach him, leading to the same result every time.

"HEY! Boy! Don't run!" huffing and blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she lifted her tattered skirts in one hand and gingerly hopped across the stream bed to where he sat waiting. One again, he dazzled her with an enigmatic smile and was gone the next instant..however this time, a small porcelain bowl lay in his stead. She cradled the fine piece of pottery to her breast and smiled witsfully, vowing to treasure it always.

After the bowl came a bracelet from braided silk, covered in a fine silvery glittery that seemed to sparkle like diamonds in the light.

Then came the comb, delicately carved tortoise shell fit for the most wealthy royaly. All hid in a burlap wrap, tucked away in her sleeping roll where nobody's prying hands could steal. Every day she fulfilled her duties to the farm, told stories to the children and every day would race to the stream and hope to see him for more than just a few seconds. He waited for her this time, rising from his spot among the cat tail reeds and hands clapsed infront of himself almost shyly. A far stretch from what Eve imagined, his youthful face was elegant and innocent, buck skin shift unadorned and a thick twine rope around his waist. Other than his upswept brows and strange dual eyes, he looked like any commoner she dwelled with. She was his instantly, and he never even had to tell her his name.

Months passed, and Eve cherished every moment with the strange Wildling. Wildlings by nature were mischevious, even trouble making, and the common folk often either ran them off or ignored them entirely. Obviously unwelcomed, the Wildfolk preferred to keep to themselves and only dabbled every-so-often in human affairs, most likely when they were saught for their otherworldly magics. Once paid in fine wines, cheeses, sweet fruits and honey, the Wildlings began asking for more retribution as the animosity between races increased. At long last, the price of a wish required a human child. The child was usually Turned, and never seen again by human eyes. Wishes came few and far between, and the Wildlings became more of a superstition than a common acknowledgement. Eve knew the consequences of her dalliance with a Wildling would be great, but one touch of his soft blonde hair and pearlescent skin was more than worth it to her. Her age of Betrothal drew nearer, and her dread nearly engulfed the young girl. He sensed it, and as he drew her in his arms under the starlit skies, he questioned what could be done to bring back her smile.

"Alas, Boy, there is nothing to be done. I am to be married to the turnip farmer for three barrels of ale and rights to the grain mill. My father won't accept any less of a dowry." The Wildling thought for a few moments, and the next morning presented himself at the door of the Farmer. He demanded the release of Eve's betrothal, to which her father denied and offered his other daughters in exchange. Simpering, straightening their hair an fluttering their eyelashes, the younger daughters smiled enticingly but went unnoticed and unwanted. Half cowering in fear, half muttering dark oaths, the Farmer remembered the tales of the Wildfolk and accepted the Wilding Boy's offer of a wish for the hand of his daughter. Three weeks and a home of fine riverstone later, the Wildling Boy came to collect his soon to be bride.

Eve met him at the stream as agreed upon, and into the marshes they disappeared. Dancing in sunlight through the day, chasing fireflies and dragonflies and by night, Eve lived in a perpetual state of dreamlike bliss. They flitted together through spring morning glories, splashed through magical rivers of light and song, and made love under a celestial audience of brilliant stars. Neither were seen by the curious villagers, although her gay laughter could be faintly heard on passing winds. Her once dutiful water pail lay abandoned by the river, home to what could only be assumed as a family of river toads.

Rumours of the young storyteller's disappearance spread throughout the village like wildfire, tales of a handsome prince, an Elvish King, a Fairy Lord whisking away the young girl drew the attention of the wealthiest woman at court, Lady Caiteillen. Lady Caiteillen was the daughter of the Lord of the Land, and was by far one of the fairest creatures to grace the human kingdom. She owned so many fine jewels, she would wear them once and discard them in ornate boxes, never thought of again. Beautiful silk ribbons, porcelain bowls and plates, gold coins in crushed velvet pouches. It wasn't until she sought her favorite hair combs, finding only one, did she suspect any of her prizes missing. In ill temperament, she stormed her mansion and whipped every chamber maid, accusing them of petty theft. The servants begged and pleaded for their flesh, each one found empty handed and the mystery of her missing comb remained. Not that she spent to much time dwelling on it, a new set of lovely silver barrettes from a hopeful suitor quickly distracted her venegeful attentions.

Many young men, rich men, handsome men and brave men had paid dearly for the chance to court the beautiful Cateillen. Each one carefully measured, weighed and found wanting. She reflected on her disinterest at the human men before her, and decided it was she who deserved a beautiful magical Wildling boy. What could a common peasant girl offer that she couldn't? Bitter jealousy welled in her breast until she could no longer contain herself, and demanded to be taken to the family of the simple peasant who had been spirited away. The Farmer and his daughters grovelled as she searched their riverstone home, turning over shelves and sleeping cots, raging at the lack of anything interesting that might attract a Wildling Man.

"What is it? What does she have that I don't? Her clothes cannot match my silken gowns, no jewelry to be seen anywhere. Tell me what this witch has done to catch a mythical being!" The Lady threw herself on Eve's abandoned bed while the Farmer's family looked on in bemusement. She kicked her pale arms, gnashed the straw cot with her pearly teeth and screamed her anger into the burlap pillow. Something smooth caught her clawing fingers, and found was Eve's hidden treasures. Lady Caiteillen recognized every item as her own, secreted away by a love struck Wildling boy for his lovely Eve. She snatched the treasures up and stormed home, declaring the entire village to be held accountable for the theft of her belongings. The commoners cried in dispair and shrieked in horror as their village was burnt to the ground, most of the occupants trapped in the fiery blazes set by Lady Caiteillen's gaurdsmen. As the smell of seared flesh and brittle bone ash floated across the streambanks, Eve's anguish was felt throughout the whimsical glade in which she and her Wild Boy resided.

Emerging from the streamside, her nimble fae feet raced to the ruins of her village. Guardsmen grabbed at her arms, hair and throat until she was completely subdued and shoved to her knees infront of Lady Caiteillen herself.

"You dare steal from me, you wretched little girl!" The Lady spat on lovey Eve's face.

"Your little Wild thing should have been mine, since you used my own treasures to attract such a being, perhaps I'll make him mine and have use of him yet. Where is he?!" Eve tilted her head towards the stream and saw her love standing there, hair wild and eyes ferocious. A hand at her mouth stifled her exclaimation of "NO!", but he stepped across the stream and to the Lady's side.

"What is it you'd like, wretch? What is the cost of my bride's freedom? A dream perhaps? A wish?" His youthful face spread into a grin and he held out a bare hand towards the woman. She sneered at his dirty clothing in disgust, her expectations of a Wildling man did not include the simple attire of a common serf. "I've changed my mind. I have no need of some dirty little fairy and his theiving whore wife." With a nod, the gaurd wrenched Eve's head to the side, snapping her pretty neck. The Wildling boy fell to his knees, softly touching her windblown locks and delicate eyelashes. His heart careened out of control in his chest and vision blurred in rage. The Lady Caiteillen and her gaurds had only moments before the very earth opened and swallowed them. Deep inside the dank, dark earth, the last thing heard was the Wildling's heartbroken voice. "An ouibliette... a place to put people. A place to forget things. A place where you are forgotten."

Nothing remained of the villagers, their tales of the Wildfolks or even the ruins of their destroyed homes. The stream dried up, and the fields went untamed. Tall and filled with thorns, they shaped into alleys and crannies, twisting and turning in every direction. Great riverstone homes shifted their walls to match the flora. The Wildling boy built a castle in the center of what used to be the village, and filled it with unlucky travellers who tried to navigate the great maze in their passage to the human kingdom. Mortals who were seeking wishes, dreams and magics were given the test, their failed efforts resulting in Turned children and strange beasts. The Turned ran rampant in the Labyrinth, merry and jolly as Eve and her Wild Boy once were in the glade, chasing fireflies and playing tricks on children. The Wildling grew to be fierce, cunning and extremey powerful, feeding from the fears and dreams of all who entered his domain. Harboring nothing but disgust as the entire human race, he was eventually forgotten by lore and remembered thoughly a single story book. Wishes grew few and far between, and he ruled his Underground with song and dance. It wasn't until hundreds upon hundreds of years later, would he encounter a pair of glittering green eyes filled with the imagination and belief of his long lost Eve.


End file.
